


Stay In Your Lane, Boy

by tylerisdun (lastmidtown)



Series: High School Musical Verse [1]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, High School Musical (Movies), Midtown, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is..., Twenty One Pilots
Genre: High School, M/M, Multi, a high school musical au, also slight frerard, half not serious, half serious, idk if it's been done, mostly joshler trust me, please give it a read, this is just high school musical with band members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13187238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastmidtown/pseuds/tylerisdun
Summary: Tyler Joseph is a basketball guy. He's never strayed from the path set out for him. That is, until Josh Dun crosses his path and everything suddenly goes awry. Can Tyler do basketball and music? Will his team understand? / Basically just High School Musical, but with band members. And Brendon Urie as Sharpay.





	Stay In Your Lane, Boy

**Winter Break, 2007**

 

“Tyler, put the basketball down,” Tyler Joseph’s mother bellowed. Tyler groaned. Yes, he was at a ski resort, and yes he was supposed to be on vacation, but he had to get his free throws down pat. He was close to having the highest free throw percentage in the state and if his mother didn’t get that, well, what kind of fan was she anyways? He turned around to explain this to her, but her hands were on her hips in that _don’t you dare mess with me, young man_ way, so he sighed and dropped the ball.

 

“Let him live,” came his dad’s voice. “Tyler’s our one hope to win the basketball championship this year. If he’s not in tip-top shape, the whole team’s gonna be thrown out of whack. Plus, he could get a scholarship! There’s gonna be tons of scouts at this game.”

 

“He can take a break for one night,” his mom said firmly. His dad sighed, but seemed to relent. Tyler recognized that tone. It meant the end of the discussion, no backtalk, no negotiation.. He hung his head, dreading what was to come, and his mother said, “You and I, Chris, are going to the New Year’s Eve party, and Tyler and the rest of his siblings will go to the kids’ New Years Eve party.”

 

“Kids?” Tyler exclaimed. He was sixteen, and that was really pretty grown up, if you asked him. Which no one really ever did. He was used to people speaking for him.

 

“Young adults,” his mom corrected. “Now go! Get ready. It starts in less than an hour! And I expect you to be social, young man.” He rolls his eyes and heads off, knowing any form of argument is futile when she’s got her mind made up like this.

 

He put on a clean sweater and jeans, which was more than he usually did, so his mom really should be grateful, and headed off to the dumb holiday party with his siblings. He figured he’d do his usual thing and split off from his siblings, sulk in a corner for a couple hours, not talk to anyone, and rehearse basketball plays in his head. It probably wouldn’t help him in the real game, but it was better than doing nothing, he figured. But just a few minutes after he got settled into his couch, the New Year’s Eve party practitioner announced that they were going to start karaoke. Tyler groaned and contemplated the merits of suffocating himself with one of the gaudily decorated pillows on the couch.

 

After the first few songs that ranged from goats suffocating to pigs being slaughtered in terribleness, the practitioner person scanned the crowd. His eyes fell upon Tyler, and Tyler really wished he were as invisible as he felt half the time so he could just fade away. But no, he was not so lucky. The guy waved him onto the stage, and though Tyler wanted to pretend he didn’t see the wave, people started physically pushing him onto the stage. It was probably a form of assault, but Tyler figured he can just get this over and done with. His voice couldn’t be that bad, right?

 

He glanced over to see the other unlucky victim of the karaoke selection. It was a guy with bright yellow hair, practically the color of a highlighter, and he beamed back at Tyler like he was actually happy to be on the stage, though he looked fairly nervous as well. They started up the music, some popular song that Tyler’s sister played so often Tyler had all the lyrics memorized. He closed his eyes and tried to make himself breathe as he sung the first line. “Living in my own world… didn’t understand…”

 

“That anything can happen,” the guy beside him chimed in, and Tyler’s eyes flew open. The dude’s voice was like, ridiculously good. He decided karaoke might not be the worst thing after all, and a smile spreads over his face. He got a little more into it - letting his body move in ways that weren’t particularly graceful but hopefully didn’t look too ridiculous. By the time the music stopped, Tyler was loath to admit it but he was actually having fun.

 

The two of them walked off the stage together to the sound of applause, Tyler almost as breathless as the many times when he’d scored a three-pointer and his whole team cheered, just for him. He turned to the highlighter boy, since the two of them seem to havehad the same idea and were both heading outside. “You have an amazing voice.”

 

“Nah,” the guy said modestly. “Nothing compared to you, dude.”

 

“I’m not really a singer,” Tyler explained. “I play basketball.”

 

The guy raised an eyebrow. “And you can’t do both?”

 

“I guess I could, I just don’t,” Tyler said. “Basketball and singing don’t really go together. Although I did write a poem about basketball once.”

 

“You write poetry?” the guy asked, looking shocked. “Guessing your ball pals don’t know about that one.”

 

“Well, no, but basketball’s like poetry in a way. It’s almost like the rhythm of balls and bodies is symbolic of…” Tyler told him, but trailed off. The guy just looked more confused, so Tyler just laughed and said, “Let’s just exchange numbers.”

 

Highlighter dude handed over his flip phone and Tyler did the same. Tyler entered his number quickly and then handed it back. Highlighter dude seemed satisfied as he handed Tyler’s phone back, a little grin in place on his face. The clock started to tick down to midnight. _Ten… nine… eight…_ Highlighter dude looked really pretty in the moonlight… _seven… six… five…_ he had nice eyes… _four… three…_ should he kiss him? _… two…_ probably not, he doesn’t even know the dude… _one._ The two of them just stood there and grinned at each other as the new year rolled in.

 

“It was nice to meet you,” highlighter dude said. “Text me sometime.”

 

“Definitely,” Tyler said. After a slight pause while he tried to think of a new conversation topic (wow, he was more awkward than he remembered), he asked, “Wait, where are you from?”, but when he turned to look at highlighter dude, he was gone. Tyler supposed that meant he was back to talking to his imaginary friends for the rest of the night. It was shameful, really, Josh had seemed much nicer. Sighing, Tyler glanced down at his phone.

 

 _Josh Dun_ , highlighter dude had entered himself as. “Josh,” he repeated, staring off into the endless sky, as endless as his nightmares.

 

.

 

**First Day of Classes: Winter Semester, 2007**

 

Pete Wentz must have had some sort of Tyler radar installed, because even when Tyler prayed to God that Pete wouldn’t show up, Pete still seemed to find him. For all intents and purposes, Pete was Tyler’s best friend. He was also kind of a loudmouthed idiot, and people tended to associate Tyler with Pete and assume he was the same way, which he definitely wasn’t. He had deep thoughts, deeper at least than whether biscuits or rolls were the superior bread - and yes, that was an actual conversation he’d had with Pete once upon a time. And sure, Pete had deep thoughts too, but for whatever reason he didn’t tend to showcase them at school. Pete’s deep thoughts were mostly reserved for their late night conversations.

 

“Tyler, my man,” Pete bellowed, practically jumping onto Tyler in the middle of the hallway. Tyler winced. “Ready to win this championship?”

 

“Always,” Tyler said, forcing a smile as he walked through the doors. “West Academy doesn’t know what’s coming for them.”

 

“Damn right they don’t,” Pete said, grinning from ear to ear. “Just wait till we unleash the secret weapon.”

 

Pete liked to call himself the team’s secret weapon, since he was about five feet tall (okay, _maybe_ a couple of inches taller) and fairly talented at dribbling and stealing the ball. He wasn’t the best at shooting and he certainly couldn’t rebound, but people tended to think that he could do absolutely nothing and thus underestimated him. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and Tyler let him have that.

 

“You’re gonna kick butt,” Tyler said, patting his friend lightly on the back.

 

They picked up Patrick and Gabe on their way to class. Gabe was the tallest on the team at 6’4” and therefore a necessity, and Patrick, well, Patrick was a special case. He was mostly there because Pete was there. He could shoot threes like nobody’s business, but he wasn’t great at dribbling so he didn’t tend to get played until the end of games, which Patrick was okay with because that meant he could be the unofficial mascot the rest of the time.

 

“Championship team coming through!” Gabe bellowed. Tyler wondered if he could, like the ever-burning candle of life, melt into the floor. 

 

“You know we haven’t actually won any championships yet,” Tyler told Gabe.

 

“Uh, yeah, but we’re going to, little man,” Gabe said, slinging an arm around Tyler’s shoulders. “We’ve got the best fucking captain in the country. What could go wrong?”

 

Gabe tended to exaggerate a little and curse a lot. It was what made Gabe _Gabe,_ though, so no one really complained. Patrick, who thankfully was a little more levelheaded, glanced over at Gabe through his glasses and said, “Let’s save the celebrating for if we win, yeah?”

“When we win,” Pete corrected, punching Patrick in the shoulder. Patrick scowled over at him, which just made Pete grin harder.

 

They finally made it to drama class, which was pretty much the bane of Tyler’s existence. He didn’t like drama. He was, admittedly, a pretty dramatic guy, but something about drama class just terrified him and so he tried to weasel out of participating in any way possible. Mr. Way, however, did not appreciate that in the slightest bit.

 

Mr. Way was only five foot nine, but he took up a lot more space than that with his grand gestures, long speeches, and big words. He also had bright red hair like a firetruck. It reminded him a bit of highlighter boy. Hm. Highlighter boy. Josh. He’d gotten all caught up in the basketball stuff again and had forgotten to text Josh. He’d have to do that after class, ask him how the rest of his break had gone and stuff.

 

“Ahem.” Mr. Way cleared his throat, signaling the beginning of class. “Welcome to theater class. I know a lot of you…” he glared pointedly at Tyler, Pete, Patrick, and Gabe, “feel that theater isn’t for you, and you requested additional Physical Education classes this semester.” Tyler had, in fact, done that. “Well, fortunately the district sees the value of arts education, so you’re stuck in class with me.”

 

As Mr. Way continued his long, rambling speech, Tyler glanced around the room to see if anyone he knew besides the basketball boys was in this class with him. There was Mikey Way, resident nerd and Mr. Way’s brother, who was almost certainly taking this class for the guaranteed A - oh, the nepotism, and one of Mikey’s friends, Ray or something, who had a ton of hair. Wait, who was that beside Ray? His hair was pink, but besides that, he looked just like highlighter boy - Josh. Well, there was a way to confirm it. He took out his phone as stealthily as possible and scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Josh’s name, then pressed the call button down. Almost immediately, one of the stock ringtones started playing from the boy in question’s seat.

 

 _Highlighter boy is here,_ Tyler thought in shock. _What the heck is highlighter boy doing here?_ A rush of happiness and excitement and confusion and worry hit him all at once. He really hoped Josh wouldn’t talk to his friends about the karaoke thing.

 

“Cellphones, a plague upon our society,” Mr. Way said solemnly. “I always like to take some time off to disconnect, think about my place in this world and the good I can do for society. Fortunately, you boys will have some time to do the same. Hand over your phone, Tyler Joseph, and you too, Peter Wentz.” Pete rolled his eyes; he was constantly in trouble for texting in class. This was Tyler’s first time, though, and he wasn’t too happy about it, but he dropped his phone into the bucket Mr. Way was holding out. “Gabriel Saporta, hand over yours as well. Oh, and Joshua Dun! Texting on your first day. I really hope you won’t be making a habit of this. I don’t like getting people in trouble, but this is definitely against the rules. All three of you will be joining me in detention.”

 

“But we’re ball players,” Pete said, sounding like he was in disbelief. “We have practice. You can’t give us detention.”

 

Mr. Way just stared back at him. “The world may not be a just society, Peter, but this classroom certainly is. All rules apply equally. You will come to detention during your free period.”

 

“Kill me,” Pete whined, putting his head in his hand. Tyler half-expected Gabe to chime in with a sassy remark, but for once Gabe kept his mouth shut. Maybe Gabe knew that having members of the team in detention for multiple days would be a disaster. Maybe Gabe was asleep after getting his phone taken. Who really knew.

 

After class, Tyler waited until Josh passed by him, and then sprung. “Hey, uh, what are you doing here?”

 

“I go to school here,” Josh said. “I’m guessing you do too, by the way that you were just in class and got me in trouble with your phone calls.” Josh grinned, though, so Tyler was at least somewhat reassured that he didn’t hate him.

 

“I didn’t think you were the private school type,” Tyler said conversationally.

 

“I’m not, really, but your school didn’t have uniforms or hair regulations, so I don’t really mind that it’s a private school. Plus, I have no problem with the whole all boys thing,” Josh told him.

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” Tyler replied, immediately understanding what Josh meant and feeling a bit warm and fuzzy inside. “Hey, I’m glad you’re here, anyway. I want to give you a tour or something.”

 

“I could go for that,” Josh said, bumping his shoulder against Tyler’s. “It’s nice to have a friendly face here.”

 

Tyler smiled back as they walked down the hall. “Well, welcome to East Academy. Uh, this is the men’s bathroom, most of the classrooms…”

 

“Been doing any more singing?” Josh asked conversationally.

 

“I’m not really a singer, I told you,” Tyler said, feeling his heart start to beat a little too fast at the prospect of being exposed in his own home turf. “So don’t tell anyone about that, okay? It stays between you and me.”

 

Josh didn’t look offended, thankfully, but he didn’t look fully satisfied with Tyler’s answer either. “I think you should sing more,” Josh said matter-of-factly. “You have a gorgeous voice.”

 

Tyler decided to ignore that. “I don’t know how involved you’re looking to get in student activities, but we have all the sign-up sheets over here. Um, Battle of the Brains, Future Farmers of America, Chess Club, Drama Club…” Before Tyler could even finish his sentence, though, someone pushed in between the two of them to lunge for the Drama Club sign in sheet.

 

Immediately after hitting Tyler, he turned around and made eye contact, batting his lashes. “Oh, Tyler, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. And who’s this? New meat?”

 

Tyler had spent the entirety of his two weeks off of school trying to forget about Brendon Urie. Brendon was the president of the Drama Club, and he certainly lived up to his title. He was constantly talking, acting, flirting — constantly doing _something_ , and for the past year or so he’d set his sights on Tyler, who he claimed was the best athlete in the country, probably. Brendon did nothing in halves. Absolutely nothing. And gorgeous as Brendon might be, he was entirely not Tyler’s type.

 

“This is Josh. He just transferred here,” Tyler introduced, feeling weary already. Josh gave a small wave and a “hi”. “Josh, uh, this is Brendon Urie. Drama Club president.”

 

“Tyler’s a fucking god at basketball,” Brendon said, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “And I’m the god of theater. We’re perfect together, really.” He turned around to scrawl his name in big letters on the sign-up sheet, taking up almost all of the spaces on the sign-up sheet. “Also, since you’re new here, you should probably know that Ryan and I get the leads in every school musical. You should definitely sign up, though. There are so many little parts in this play, and we’d love to have new meat.” He grinned and licked his lips.

 

Almost as if on cue, Ryan Ross appeared at Brendon’s side. Ryan had been in love with Brendon for ages and everyone knew it, everyone, for once, including Tyler. Everyone except Brendon, that was. Ryan was a sarcastic, quiet, indirect kind of guy, the opposite of Brendon’s straightforward, sassy nature. Brendon was also not too great at picking up subtle cues from people. Ryan didn’t say anything to Tyler or Josh, though, instead just nodding along to Brendon’s little speech. His outfit was as fantastical as ever - a matching scarf and vest, a puffy yellow shirt, a purple jacket, and corduroy jeans with suspenders. It really was a wonder sometimes, Tyler thought, that Ryan Ross hadn’t been beaten up.

 

“I’m not really interested in drama right now, but thanks,” Josh said, his voice warmer than Tyler had expected it to be. “I’ll let you know if I ever want a mediocre part in the Brendon and Ryan show.”

 

Brendon really wasn’t good at picking up sarcasm. “Thanks, Josh! Always nice to hear we’re appreciated. Great to meet you, then,” he said, walking off. Ryan, who definitely had picked up on Josh’s jab, just rolled his eyes in Josh’s direction and followed Brendon.

 

“So no drama then?” Tyler asked once Brendon and Ryan were gone.

 

“No clubs, I don’t think,” Josh said. “I’m not really… I don’t want to get involved in clubs yet. I have a ton of schoolwork to catch up on. Say, are you dating that Brendon kid?”

 

“Ugh,” Tyler said, shivering. He’d rather get eaten alive by his own rotten soul than date Brendon Urie. “ _Definitely_ not.”

 

“Oh,” Josh said. “Then… well… if you wanted to audition for the musical, I’d audition with you. For the extra credit in drama. You know.”

 

Tyler nodded in acknowledgment. However, no matter what Josh said, Tyler was not going to audition for the musical.

 

.

 

Detention was, as always, mind-numbingly boring. Mr. Way insisted that “proximity to the arts” would do them good, so they were stuck painting the set for the musical. At least it was relaxing, but Tyler found himself practically falling asleep. He turned around, spotted Gabe dozing off inside of a tree, and practically snorted. Gabe’s napping in a gorgeously painted tree was a metaphor for how he felt about life right now, basically. Josh grinned at him from around a tree. “Hey, at my old school, detention was just sitting at a table and being bored. At least we’re doing something productive here.”

 

“That’s true,” Tyler said, smiling back at Josh. “I’m just a little too clumsy to paint in these small spaces.” He tried to paint a leaf to demonstrate, and ended up with green paint all over his hands and some on his nose, somehow.

 

Halfway through another stroke of his brush, he heard someone storm in. He turned quickly to see Coach Iero, the assistant coach of the basketball team the school had hired to “help” his dad - as if his dad even needed help. More likely it was because the principal of the school was Iero’s aunt. More nepotism. Coach Iero was good at two things, though - getting them fired up and being a little angry man who got what he wanted. And right now, he was definitely pissed.

 

“Ger- _ard_ ,” Coach Iero said, storming up to Mr. Way, who looked less than pleased to see him. “I’d like to know why my players are in detention, please.”

 

“Because they had their cellphones out in class,” Mr. Way said rather matter-of-factly. “They’re not exempt from school rules, Frank. That’d hardly be fair.”

 

“We’re trying to win a championship here,” Coach Iero retorted. “But I guess you don’t give a shit about that.” He winced. Coach Iero was notorious for his dirty mouth, but he was constantly professing that he was going to change. “Sorry, kids, ignore that.”

 

“You’re right, I really don’t,” Mr. Way told him. Mr. Way was famous for his sass. Tyler appreciated it, though he didn’t really appreciate his class.

 

“We bring in more revenue to the school than you could ever dream,” Coach Iero said, his tiny body shaking.

 

“Not everything’s about revenue, Frank,” Mr. Way said patiently.

 

“Practicality, Gerard. It’s a thing. Not that you’d know anything about that,” Coach Iero said, scowling. “Anyways. I’m dragging my boys out of detention. You got a problem, take it up with the principal.”

 

Mr. Way groaned. Tyler knew that he’d never take it up with the principal, because well, firstly she was related to Coach Iero, and secondly she was a huge basketball fan. Coach Iero shot them a glare, and Tyler, Pete, and Gabe scrambled towards him, following him out of the theater and determinedly not making eye contact with Mr. Way. Mr. Way went back to ranting about people who just didn’t get the theater as the four of them ducked out.

 

Coach Iero sighed and glared over at the three boys. “Coach Joseph is royally pissed. Just so you all know.” He glanced over at Tyler. “Especially at you, little Joseph.”

 

Tyler had a feeling of what his father’s criticisms would be. _You’re the captain of this team. You’re supposed to be setting a good example. You’re wasting valuable practice time._ He sighed. There was no real way to explain this one.

 

“Tyler Robert Joseph,” his father’s voice boomed across the gym. Tyler craved death. “What in the world were you thinking, young man? The team has been waiting for you.”

 

“I’m here now,” Tyler said, raising his hands in surrender. “Let’s start the drills, okay? It won’t happen again, I promise.”

 

His head still felt confused. He couldn’t stop thinking about Josh Dun with his bright hair and his bright smiles and the fact that Josh had asked him to sing with him for the musical. All through practice, his thoughts were distracted - writing a poem, a rap maybe, in his head, about how torn he felt. Why couldn’t people let him sing and play basketball, be in the musical and win the championship?

 

His team would boil him alive. No way could he audition for the musical.

 

.

 

He was about to audition for the musical.

 

He’d caught Josh hiding behind a plant at the auditions, trying to look stealthy, as Brendon and Ryan sang their slow, incredibly dramatic duet version of the musical’s song on stage. Brendon really did have a fantastic voice, and Ryan complemented him well, so Tyler almost didn’t want to take that away from them. But maybe there was room for more people in the theater.

 

He waited for Josh to pop out and volunteer them, but Josh looked torn as well, and Tyler sure as heck wasn’t going to be the one to step out and volunteer them. He wasn’t really the aggressive type. Ironic, considering his sport was basketball and he was fairly aggressive on the court, but oh well.

 

After Mr. Way had started packing up, Josh decided to pop out and say, “I’d like to audition.”

 

“Josh,” Mr. Way said, his forehead creasing in concern. “That’s… that’s great, but uh, the singles auditions are long over, and, well, we want to know that you’re committed, so we can’t really let you audition this late. I’m really sorry.”

 

“I’ll sing with him,” Tyler said slowly, emerging from his hiding place in the corner. Against what he thought was best, he might add.

 

“Well, that’s very nice, Tyler, but these auditions aren’t really a joke,” Mr. Way told him, frowning.

 

“It’s not a joke,” Tyler said, a little desperately, but he could see why Mr. Way would think that. Gabe and Pete would have definitely crashed these auditions as a joke, sung off-key and pretended they were serious about it. Tyler wasn’t really like them, but he hung around with them all the time, so it was easy to get them mixed up. Plus, he had committed an act of delinquency earlier that day. Made sense. “I really want to audition. With Josh.” He tried to make himself sound as sincere as possible, but really his voice was better suited to sarcasm.

 

“Uh,” Mr. Way said, glancing back and forth between the two boys. “Well, that’s great and everything, but… maybe the spring musical? It’s just, the theater is so sacred and I’m not sure I could trust you guys, especially in the lead roles, so I’d prefer to kind of get a feel for you first, and yeah, sorry. Thanks for stopping by, though. Really.”

 

Mr. Way packed up and headed out, but instead of leaving like Tyler expected Josh to, Josh walked onto the stage where an incredibly skinny, tall, long-haired boy was sitting. “You must be the composer,” Josh said conversationally. “Your song sounded fantastic.”

 

“It’s not really how it’s supposed to sound,” the boy said, standing up and stretching out his long limbs. He accidentally managed to hit his papers, though, and they flew all over the place.

 

Quickly, Tyler joined the two on stage and helped them pick up the papers, then handed them over to the composer boy. “I’m Tyler Joseph,” he said awkwardly.

 

“I know,” the boy said, eyeing him a little distastefully.

 

“I’m Josh Dun,” Josh said, beaming at the boy. “I’m new.”

 

“Nice to meet you,” the boy said, smiling back at Josh a little warily. Of course the boy would like Josh better. Josh was a ton cooler than him. It was a little weird to him still that Josh even wanted to talk to him, but whatever. “I’m William Beckett. And yeah, I’m the composer.”

 

“Weird that our paths haven’t crossed before,” Tyler commented.

 

“I’m not really in your crowd,” William said disdainfully. This much was true. Tyler felt like an idiot. His friends would probably call William a pretty boy, weird, asocial, something like that. He was kind of weird, to be truthful, but Tyler was also kind of weird. He was suddenly glad his friends had never found his poetry.

 

Tyler realized that William putting his songs up for use in this show was kind of like him putting his poetry up for display. It was kind of incredibly brave, showing his innermost thoughts to the world. He was like the playmaker, making everyone else look good, but incredibly underappreciated. He voiced this, and William finally gave him something that resembled a smile. “Thanks. Didn’t think your type was the type to appreciate poetry.”

 

“I’m not just a basketball guy, you know,” Tyler told him. “I do other stuff too.”

 

“Yeah, sleep, breathe, and eat,” William said, but it sounded like a joke, so Tyler laughed, and Josh laughed along with them. It was a very nice sound. William brushed a lock of his too-long hair out of his eyes. “You guys wanna hear how the song’s supposed to sound? I mean, Brendon and Ryan are great singers, but hell if they don’t turn every song into some kind of pretentious shit that it’s just not meant to be. Uh, the song’s called About A Girl…” He stared playing it and singing, and when he sang the chorus for a second time, Tyler and Josh started singing along. It really was a good song when it was poppy and upbeat and not trying to be something that it wasn’t. Once they’d finished, they heard clapping coming from the theater, and both boys turned around to see Mr. Way standing there, a grin on his face.

 

“This is against all logic, really, but I think you two show a lot of promise and I’d like to give you a chance to impress me,” Mr. Way said, crossing his arms. “I want you two to come in for a callback.”

 

“That’d be great, thanks!” Josh exclaimed, turning to Tyler with his big grin again, and Tyler felt his heart completely melt.

 

“Yeah, great,” he said, but all he could think of was everyone finding out that he auditioned for the musical, because of course the callbacks were about to be posted. Oh, well. It had been a good sixteen years.

 

“I’ll help you guys practice for the callback,” William said, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes, so Tyler was expecting it when he said, “on one condition.”

 

Josh and Tyler glanced at each other, and Tyler could pretty much read Josh’s stare, so he said, “Uh, what’s the condition?”

 

“There’s a cute boy on your basketball team,” William said.

 

“Besides Tyler?” Josh said. Tyler couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but he hoped with all his heart that Josh wasn’t joking.

 

“Tyler’s not my type, no offense,” William replied, and Tyler wasn’t really very offended, cause William wasn’t his type either and it just made things easier this way. “Nah, he’s really fucking tall, like a giant or some shit. Uh, he’s really obnoxious. I think his name’s Gabe, but people don’t really talk about him as much as they do you, Tyler.”

 

“Yeah, his name is Gabe,” Tyler told him. Somehow, he was actually pretty happy about this new development. William had a pretty filthy mouth too from what he’d heard, and they were both absurdly tall, so they’d go together pretty well, Tyler thought. “And yeah, I could definitely introduce you.”

 

“Gabe is really tall,” Josh commented. “Makes you look like a dwarf, Tyler.”

 

“You’re shorter than me!” Tyler exclaimed.

 

“You guys are cute,” William mused. Tyler quirked up an eyebrow at Josh, but neither of them corrected him. He then said, “So we could practice after school, if that works for you two.”

 

“Basketball practice,” Tyler said, frowning. “Before school, though, maybe, or between classes, or sometimes during free period…”

 

“We’ll find a time,” Josh said reassuringly, patting Tyler on the back. It was the first time Josh had really touched him. Tyler thought he might die.

 

.

 

The next day at school came all of the backlash Tyler was expecting. When he walked in the doors, he was greeted by the sound of a Brendon Urie scream, the kind of horrified screech that deafened half of the school population. Probably best to avoid Ryan and Brendon for now, then. He spotted Josh in a corner and decided to join him.

 

“JOSH TOLD ME HE WOULDN’T FUCKING AUDITION AND WHAT THE HELL IS TYLER DOING HE ISN’T A MUSICIAN,” came from the bulletin board, followed by what was probably Ryan’s attempts at soothing noise, like Brendon was some kind of upset animal - well, really it wasn’t too far off. Tyler sighed, turning to Josh. “Brendon might try to fight you.”

 

Josh shrugged. “I’ve already accepted my demise.”

 

“I’ll plan your funeral,” Tyler told him. “What type of coffin wood do you prefer?”

 

Brendon, thankfully, didn’t spot them in the corner, but the basketball team did. They cast a sidelong glance at Josh and then Pete said, rather aggressively, “Tyler, let’s go.”

 

“We’ll practice later,” Tyler promised Josh, following his friends.

 

Pete looked like a very tiny volcano that was about to explode. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Joseph?” he seethed.

 

“Uh, well, I was standing in a corner talking to Josh, and now I’m here.”

 

Pete’s glare was surprisingly piercing for such a small person. “You know what I meant,” Pete said harshly. “You’re auditioning for a _musical?_ A damn _musical?_ Tyler, you’re many things, and you’re a complex person or what the fuck ever, but you’re not an actor, and you’re not a singer.”

 

“How would you know?” Tyler said. “You’ve never even heard me sing. I could very well be the next Frank Sinatra and you’d have no clue.”

 

Pete just stared at him like he was crazy. Gabe chimed in. “Look, everyone knows who fucking Lebron James is, right? Michael Jordan? Well, do you know who John Lloyd Young is?”

 

“…no,” Tyler said slowly. He knew his basketball trivia, he was sure, so this couldn’t be another basketball player. Really, he had no idea where Gabe was going with this.

 

“He won the Tony Award last year for best actor in a musical,” Gabe snapped. “See? Completely different levels of fame.”

 

“…wait, how do you know that?” Tyler asked Gabe, confused. Gabe Saporta was one weird guy.

 

The bell rang before Gabe could answer, and Pete groaned. “We’ll finish this discussion at lunch.”

 

By the time lunch rolled around, though, Pete was even angrier. “Do you even know what the fuck is going on right now, Tyler?” Pete said. “Because of your stupid audition shit, people are _mixing._ Brendon and Ryan’s weird friends that are always high keep trying to talk to us. The emo kids are eating with the future frat boys. It’s anarchy, I tell you!”

 

Tyler wasn’t sure what the problem was. He’d always found it kind of weird the way that the school was divided into cliques that didn’t interact with each other. Getting the cliques to intermix seemed like a positive change to him. Sure, he’d never taken any moves to combat it before, but he was glad he’d inadvertently affected change. “So?”

 

“Patrick’s baking,” Pete said desperately.

 

Patrick, who had appeared beside them, didn’t seem too bothered by the clique mixing or Pete’s disdain for his baking. He handed Tyler a slice of cake. “I just baked it in the school kitchens. It’s chocolate with a hint of coconut.”

 

 _Holy crap_ , Tyler thought as he bit into Patrick’s cake for the first time. It was a flavor explosion, nirvana for his tastebuds. Patrick stared at him, clearly expecting something, so he swallowed and said, “This is amazing, Patrick.”

 

“Clearly you don’t see the gravity of this situation,” Pete said dramatically. “Whatever, Tyler Joseph. Don’t come crying to me when this all falls apart.”

 

Tyler wasn’t exactly sure what was going to fall apart. Besides Brendon Urie, who was currently sitting one table ever and lamenting to Ryan Ross, “I can’t believe that Josh Dun kid would come in and try to make a mockery of our drama program.”

 

“He didn’t even ask if he could join the club,” Ryan pointed out.

 

“Exactly!” Brendon exclaimed. “And I mean, Tyler Joseph is amazing, but he’s amazing at basketball. Not at theater. That’s where I excel. It’s just the fucking rules, Ryan! Everyone has to learn the fucking rules.”

 

Ryan just nodded encouragingly. Tyler sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should feel happy or insulted, really, but the fact of the matter was no one was taking him seriously, and everyone hated Josh. Maybe Pete was right. Maybe shaking things up wasn’t the best idea.

 

He grabbed Josh’s arm as Josh approached with a tray of food and dragged him out of the cafeteria. As Tyler had expected, Josh looked supremely confused, but he let Tyler drag him nonetheless. “What’s going on?” he asked Tyler.

 

“I’m taking you somewhere,” Tyler said. He was aware that it sounded very vague, which was purposeful.

 

Josh laughed. “Uh, okay. As long as it’s not your secret torture chamber under the school or something.”

 

“That’s only reserved for people who doubt my basketball abilities,” Tyler quipped. He led Josh through the halls to the stairway, and then up the stairs to the roof of the school. On the roof, there was something of a secret garden - filled with green, leafy plants and bright flowers. The room had a glass roof through which light streamed, giving the room a warm, earthy glow. “Uh, this is my secret place, kind of. It’s where I go when I want to get away from everyone.”

 

“I could use a little of that,” Josh said, frowning. “Brendon shoved a slice of some pie Patrick baked in my face and told me to back the eff off.”

 

“Brendon’s… a little overdramatic,” Tyler explained, leading Josh over to a bench and sitting down beside him. “That’s kind of why he’s president of the drama club.”

 

“Makes sense,” Josh said, nodding. “In a way, I kind of wish we hadn’t auditioned. It just started a whole bunch of unnecessary drama. I’m usually a pretty chill guy. All of this, it’s just… not my thing. But I really liked singing with you. And I wanted to do it again.”

 

“Me too,” Tyler said, feeling his cheeks heat up a little bit, and all the more as Josh knocked his shoulder against Tyler’s and smiled.

 

“By the way,” Josh said, “I joined the Battle of the Brains club or whatever. Just so you know.”

 

“What?” Tyler asked, feeling a little taken off guard. Everyone on that team was a verifiable genius. In Tyler’s mind, Josh was pretty much a genius, but he hadn’t known that his wild imagination had any basis in reality. He imagined Josh in a sweater vest and big, dorky glasses. It was kind of the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “I didn’t know you were a genius,” he said at last.

 

“I’m _not_ ,” Josh protested, which pretty much confirmed that he was, because if he was, Josh was the type that wouldn’t tell him. “I’m just… okay, I like school and learning and stuff. It’s no big deal, really.”

 

“It’s cool,” Tyler said. “I just… you never told me.”

 

Josh grimaced. “At my old school, I was looked at like this genius dude, and that was it. There were no layers or anything to me. It was just, I was smart, and that was it. Nothing else I did even mattered. So I kind of wanted you to not see me as a freaky genius dude. More like, just as a dude.”

 

“I can do that,” Tyler said. “I mean, even if you are a freaky genius dude, you’re also a singer dude, a dude with hair like a highlighter, a dude with a crazy good voice, and a dude with a great smile.”

 

“I also play the drums,” Josh said. “Though I’m not sure it would help me much in the musical. But I just wanted you to know.”

 

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play ukulele,” Tyler confessed. “I took piano lessons as a kid, though, so I can still play a good bit of piano.”

 

“That’s cool,” Josh told him, scooting a bit closer so their arms were brushing. A shiver ran up Tyler’s spine.

 

“So, how’d you get roped into the Battle of the Brains?” Tyler asked, raising an eyebrow at Josh.

 

“Well, someone put some printouts of my past accomplishments and stuff in Mikey Way’s locker,” Josh said, staring down at the ground. “And then he wouldn’t leave me alone about it. For someone who doesn’t say a lot, he can be _very_ persistent.”

 

Tyler snorted. “Yeah, sounds like Mikey. He’s, uh, he’s a cool guy.”

 

“He doesn’t like you very much,” Josh told him, avoiding eye contact.

 

“We run in different crowds,” Tyler said with a shrug. Mikey had no other real reason to dislike him.

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t mind,” Josh said, turning so that they were even closer together.

 

Tyler gulped, his mind spinning. He needed to say something, anything, to try to clue Josh in to how he was feeling. All that sprung to his mind were metaphors about drowning fish and suicidal kittens, both of which Josh probably would think was really weird. _Think, think, think._ “You know how when you were little, like in kindergarten,” Tyler said at last, “you’d meet someone and you’d just kind of click and it was you’d known them forever? You’d immediately be best friends?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Josh said, looking like he was trying to figure this whole thing out. _Good luck,_ Tyler thought. It’d been 16 years and he still hadn’t figured himself out. He wasn’t even close.

 

“I feel like that with you,” Tyler said, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

 

A huge smile broke out across Josh’s face. “I can’t wait to sing with you,” Josh said, leaning in towards him. Tyler felt his heart jump into his chest, but before he could even think about meeting Josh halfway, the bell rung and both of them sprung up.

 

“I’ll - uh - see you later,” Tyler said, grabbing his stuff and scurrying off. He forced himself not to look back.

 

.

 

The next day Tyler had to miss part of basketball practice to practice with Josh and William. Their new song, “After the Last Midtown Show”, was significantly slower and would take a lot more emotion to sing. After they finished a pretty basic rehearsal, Tyler sighed and sat down on the bench beside William.

 

“You ever think about writing a rap into your songs?” he asked the boy beside him.

 

William gave him a funny look. William tended to give Tyler funny looks a lot. Tyler got the feeling that he and William were on very different pages as far as most things went. “Uh, no.”

 

“I think it’d be cool,” Tyler said. “I like the idea of mixing, you know, your type of music, maybe some electronic music, and rap.”

 

William laughed, almost disbelievingly. “You have some very interesting ideas about music, Joseph. Maybe one day you’ll invent your own genre. But as far as musicals go? Rap is probably a no go, at least for now.”

 

Shaking his head, Tyler said, “Maybe you just don’t know music, Beckett.”

 

“Don’t you have practice?” William asked.

 

“Crap, I totally do,” Tyler said, scrambling off of the bench. When he’d been performing with Josh, basketball had totally slipped his mind. How had he let this happen? Before, he’d been so concentrated on basketball and only basketball, constantly rehearsing plays, figuring out what he and his team could do in any given situation. Now he was missing practices, letting his team down. He was the worst captain ever.

 

He bid William a quick goodbye and darted to the gym as quickly as possible. No one was in the gym, though; no one was practicing their plays, running around the court, and even the area near the locker room seemed silent. It was almost eerie. Tyler wondered if practice had been cancelled or something. Walking into the locker room, he wondered if he should call one of his friends and figure out what was going on. But no - there they all were. The entirety of his team, along with Coach Iero, crowded into the locker room. And none of them looked happy.

 

“Tyler,” they all chorused, almost at once. It was really creepy. Tyler felt like he’d been sucked into one of his nightmares. Wow. Maybe he should run. How exactly were you supposed to wake up from nightmares again?

 

Pete stepped forwards, still looking as angry as the last time Tyler had seen him. “Nice to see our captain again. Since he didn’t bother showing up for practice.”

 

“I was just late,” Tyler said defensively, decidedly not mentioning that he had forgotten about practice altogether.

 

“Right.” Pete laughed, a rough, angry laugh that didn’t fit him at all. “It’s almost like we don’t matter to you at all. Or at least you’d think.”

 

“Look, Tyler,” Gabe jumped in. “This is an intervention, all right? We don’t think that it’s productive for you to get so involved in this theater thing, especially now. We’re your team. We need you.”

 

“The East Academy Wildcats,” Patrick said, flashing his innocent smile. “A team. A family.”

 

“But now we’ve been replaced,” Pete continued. “And you know who’s been torn the fuck up about all of this?”

 

“Your coaches,” Coach Iero chimed in. “Or, mostly, your father. He knows how much potential you have. He doesn’t want it all to go to waste for something that might just be a passing phase.”

 

“We care about you, Tyler,” Patrick said earnestly.

 

An intervention. This was an intervention. They thought he was neglecting his duties at team captain, and felt it necessary to guilt-trip him into getting his head back in place. Well, fine. He’d give them what they wanted, try and be a little more attentive, and keep doing the musical too.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said, trying to sound as honest as possible. “I really have been neglecting my duties as captain. I see that now. I promise I’ll do my best to get my head back in the game, all right?”

 

“What about Josh? And the musical?” Gabe asked, looking skeptical.

 

“The musical, Josh, they’re just passing things. Not important. Just to try out something new. I’ll drop it if you guys want,” Tyler said, trying not to wince. He wasn’t the best liar. Hopefully no one would see through him. And hopefully Josh would never hear about this. “Basketball is my passion, my forever. You guys know this.”

 

“Of course we do,” Pete said, his voice sounding odd, almost choked.

 

“Now let’s get out on that court and practice!” Tyler said, directing his teammates to the door. Pete, Gabe, and Patrick flashed him grins that almost looked guilty as they headed out to the court.

 

Tyler wondered what in the world was going on.

 

.

 

The next day at school, Tyler found Josh leaning against a locker. Immediately, he approached him and said, “Hey, uh, William and I were thinking we should rehearse during lunch today.”

 

“Won’t be necessary,” Josh said, avoiding Tyler’s attempts at eye contact.

 

“Wait, what?” Tyler asked, his eyes widening. What did he mean, won’t be necessary? Was he backing out, giving up? What was going on? Did something happen?

 

“I said it won’t be necessary,” Josh repeated. “This talent show thing, it doesn’t mean that much to you. I get it. You’re a basketball guy. That’s your thing. I’ll leave you to it, all right? Sorry I ever messed that up for you.”

 

Spinning on his heel, Josh walked away, leaving Tyler standing in the middle of the hallway. He had absolutely no clue what was going on. In no way did he want to give up the talent show, to be the basketball guy again, but now it seemed like that had been forced on him. More than anything, he wanted to call out to Josh, to tell him to stop, to tell him that he had it all wrong. But Josh was already gone and Tyler didn’t know what to do.

 

.

 

“You don’t look so good,” Pete said at lunch.

 

“You haven’t eaten a bite of your meal,” Patrick chimed in.

 

Tyler leveled them with an even stare. “I’m not feeling too good,” he informed them, taking a sip of his milk.

 

“Is something wrong?” Patrick asked, glancing nervously between Tyler and the rest of the team. Patrick wasn’t really too fond of conflict, except for when he and Pete argued over music. That got violent rather fast.

 

“Your audition for the talent show is soon,” Pete said encouragingly. “You should be fucking psyched, man.”

 

“I’m not auditioning for the talent show,” Tyler snapped in response. His emotions were kind of overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with them. Worries plagued his mind. Had he done something to offend Josh? How had Josh come to the conclusion that Tyler didn’t want to do the talent show with him? It just didn’t make any sense.

 

“You’re not?” Gabe asked, his big brown eyes comically wide. “But… you were so excited… and Brendon was so fucking pissed. It was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen. Seriously.”

 

“I’m not auditioning,” Tyler repeated, stabbing his fork into the chicken he was refusing to eat, and seriously he should’ve just not getting anything because Pete and Gabe had been staring at his chicken with mournful eyes the entire time. “Josh hates me for some reason now and he said he doesn’t want to do the show with me anymore. Said I wasn’t into it or something. I don’t even know what I did wrong!”

 

Tyler expected his friends to react with similar confusion, but instead they just looked at each other with guilty eyes and then turned back to their food. Something definitely wasn’t right. Had they somehow orchestrated this? “What’s going on?” Tyler demanded, feeling angrier than he had been in a long time. If Pete and Gabe had somehow managed to even screw _this_ up for him… and Patrick couldn’t have been involved too, could he have? What about the rest of the team? What in the world was happening?

 

Pete was staring at the table. “We may… know what you did wrong.”

 

“You what?” Tyler said, almost in disbelief. They wouldn’t have. They couldn’t have.

 

“We may have filmed your little speech in the locker room and shown it to Josh,” Gabe said, scratching the back of his neck.

 

They did.

 

“You… you…” Tyler’s brain practically imploded. He was so full of rage he couldn’t even figure out the words to say. His chest literally hurt. This was insane, so insane he couldn’t even comprehend the insanity of it. They’d ruined something of his that was so good, all because they were jealous? Because they thought he was neglecting them? It was so selfish and just flat out mean he could hardly comprehend it.

 

“We’re sorry,” Pete said desperately. “We had no idea it, uh, it meant so much to you! And we regret it a lot now. Like, a fuckton. We’re gonna fix it, I promise.”

 

“How do you think you’ll do that?” Tyler practically spit.

 

“Well, I’ll talk to Mikey, and…” Pete began.

 

“Mikey? Mikey _Way_?” Tyler asked, his head spinning. Pete had never liked Mikey Way. Pete thought Mikey Way was stuck-up and too smart for his own good and weird because he never talked. Pete would never collaborate with Mikey Way.

 

The world was coming to an end. That was the only logical conclusion.

 

“Uh, yeah, we kind of worked together,” Pete said, his eyes searching the table, his cheeks going a bit pink. Wait a minute, Tyler thought. Did Pete _like_ Mikey Way? There was no way, but here Pete was acting like a middle school girl all over again. And here he’d always thought Pete had some kind of a thing with Patrick, who looked positively annoyed.

 

“Pete’s talked about Mikey Way nonstop for days,” Patrick deadpanned. Suddenly Tyler felt a little bad. He must have been neglecting them pretty badly if he’d totally missed that.

 

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much as I should have, okay?” Tyler said. “But this… it wasn’t the way to handle it. Not at all.”

 

“We know,” Gabe said mournfully. “But like Pete said, we’ll talk to Mikey and tell him to tell Josh we practically goaded you into saying all that shit. It’ll work. Trust us.”

 

Tyler glanced around at his friends, their faces bright and earnest. Through all the years, they’d always been his main boys, always looking out for his best interest, the team’s best interest. Never had they let him down before. He could trust them.

 

He nodded. “I believe you.” And he did.

 

.

 

After practice, he spotted Josh and Mikey walking out of the science lab, probably having just finished a Battle of the Brains practice. His brain pretty much shut off completely upon seeing Josh Dun and instead of doing the reasonable thing and just leaving the school, he decided somehow that the best idea to fix the problem was to jump into a locker.

 

“Look, I’ve been talking to Pete,” Mikey was saying in his usual neutral tone. “And Pete says they almost forced Tyler to say that. He didn’t mean it, he says. Tyler’s been miserable for days. He wants to do the talent show with you.” It was the most Tyler had heard Mikey say at one time, and he was kind of impressed that Pete had managed to convince Mikey to do this.

 

“No, you were right,” Josh said, but his voice lacked conviction. “We’re very different people. Tyler has his priorities, as he should. It’s just… not worth it.”

 

“But it is worth it,” Mikey replied. “It’s something you care about, so you should do it. That’s what Gerard always says, at least.”

 

Huh, Tyler thought. Who knew the Way brothers could be so deep.

 

“I guess,” Josh said with a shrug.

 

“Look,” Mikey said. “I… we feel really bad about setting Tyler up like that. We ruined it for you, and we shouldn’t have. The Battle of the Brains competition, the basketball game… sure, they’re important, but they don’t matter that much. What matters is how you feel about us, and especially how you feel about Tyler.”

 

Josh paused. Tyler’s heart beat crazy quickly. He was scared that Josh would just reject him flat out, on the spot, but instead Josh just said, “Thanks, Mikey. You’re right.”

“So you’ll do the talent show?” Mikey asked.

 

“I will,” Josh confirmed. Tyler felt his heart explode in his chest. He wanted to burst out of the locker, but he realized that they didn’t really put handles on the inside because people weren’t really supposed to be in lockers. Instead, he settled for banging on the locker as loudly and obnoxiously as possible.

 

“What the hell,” he heard Mikey mutter.

 

“Let’s just open it,” Josh suggested, and when Josh did so, Tyler practically fell on him. Still, he wasn’t that bothered.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said seriously.

 

“It’s cool,” Josh shrugged, but he was grinning his special Josh grin again. “Let’s just get back down to business.”

 

.

 

“You’re back!” William said happily when the two of them walked into the practice room during lunchtime the next day. “So everything’s back on track?”

 

“Yeah,” Tyler confirmed, and Josh put his arm around Tyler’s shoulders, though whether it was simply friendly or not Tyler couldn’t tell. William seemed to think it was a bit more, though, judging by the look on his face.

 

“And have you talked to Gabe about me yet?” William asked, like they were in middle school all over again and he was sending his friends to ask if his crush liked him. Tyler wanted to roll his eyes, but then again they kind of needed William to help them rehearse, so probably best to avoid angering him.

 

“All in good time,” Tyler said, sitting down beside William.

 

Josh leaned against the piano beside him. “Also, we may want to be stealthy about our practices. Brendon’s kind of been following me around the past few days. I think he wants to get an idea of what we’re doing, and it doesn’t matter that much, but I just think it’d be better if he didn’t know what we were doing.”

 

“Little bitch,” William muttered. He handed them each a copy of the sheet music, and said, “We’re going to kick his ass.”

 

Tyler heartily agreed.

 

.

 

Every spare second of Tyler’s life was now jam-packed with basketball and auditions. When he wasn’t practicing free throws or passing with his dad, he was singing the same lines over and over again. _It’s a drunken midnight on the streets, brightly dusted with the neon lights…_ he had no idea how William had gotten this approved with the principal. Probably through Mr. Way’s influence. Mr. Way had always been open-minded, sometimes a little too open-minded, in Tyler’s opinion.

 

Brendon Urie was not happy with him, which he didn’t mind too much, but the glares in class were kind of getting annoying. So he went up to him after class one day and said, “Uh, I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry if I made you mad with this whole auditions thing. Wasn’t my intention. May the best men win.”

 

Brendon eyed him with his big brown eyes and then his lips curved up into a smile. “You’re too fucking cute, Tyler Joseph. You know, we could switch partners. You and I could do a song together.”

 

“… no thanks,” Tyler said. “I think your little slave boy Ryan has a thing for you, though.”

 

“Ryan?” Brendon said, his eyes comically wide. How in the world Brendon hadn’t figured this out already, Tyler wasn’t sure, but he’d always been a little oblivious about everything important.

 

“Um, yeah,” Tyler said. “See you Thursday at callbacks.”

 

.

 

Apparently this served to make Brendon even more angry, though, for whatever reason. The next day at school one of William’s bizarrely long limbs latched onto him practically as he walked through the door and dragged him over to the bulletin board.

 

“The Wicked Witch of the East strikes again,” William said dramatically.

 

 _Callbacks changed to Friday_ read the paper plastered over the callbacks notice. He wanted to scream. “You think Brendon did this?” he asked furiously.

 

“I’m sure Brendon did it,” William said. “No one else is so hilariously self-absorbed.”

 

Josh approached from behind. “What’s going on?” he asked, and after Tyler and William explained the situation, he sighed. “This complicates things.”

 

“There’s no way we can do both,” Tyler said.

 

“I think we can figure something out,” Pete said, approaching with Patrick, Gabe, Mikey, and Ray with the big hair. “What do you think, Mikey?”

 

“What good is being a genius if you don’t use it to help your friends?” Mikey said in a monotone. It was hard to tell if he was serious or not.

 

“We can probably write a code to mess up the scoreboard at the game,” Ray said, already scribbling something in a notebook. “And Josh, for our competition, we could cause a small explosion with an odor and a color that would cause everyone to have to evacuate the room temporarily.”

 

Tyler looked at the other boys, feeling a bit emotional. He hadn’t done anything to deserve all this, surely. “You’d do that for us?” he asked.

 

“Sure,” Ray said with a shrug, and the other boys just nodded along.

 

Josh’s face brightened. “We can do this.” Tyler made eye contact with him, and his heart practically soared. They definitely could.

 

.

 

The day of the callbacks, the basketball game, and the competition, Tyler’s body ached. He’d been shooting and dribbling until midnight the night before. This day determined so many things for him. He was determined that everything had to be perfect.

 

“Good luck today, Tyler,” some boy chirped as he walked by. He nodded back at him; he’d certainly need it if they were going to pull everything off the way they wanted it. He probably had no idea about all that, though.

 

Brendon Urie approached him at his locker. “Good luck in the game today, Tyler,” Brendon said in a sing-song voice. “Too bad you won’t be able to make it to callbacks. But you’ll have to come see me and Ryan in the show. It would be such an honor.”

 

 _Bitch_ was what immediately came to Tyler’s head. He immediately felt bad about it, though. William was rubbing off on him. He shut his locker hard and then said, “Yeah, too bad.”

 

He wondered how Brendon had convinced Mr. Way, the patron saint of fairness, to change the date of the callbacks. It was true enough that Tyler hadn’t exactly been the best or the most serious student in Mr. Way’s theater classes, but whatever. Maybe Brendon had made up some conflict or something. The boy was cunning enough.

 

Once he got to class, he found the science boys with “GOOD LUCK EAS” painted on their chest. When he gave Mikey a confused stare, Mikey just shrugged and said, “We only had eleven guys. Not enough for a T.”

 

The kid was definitely weird. He was Tyler’s kind of weird now, though, so he just grinned and said, “Patrick baked you guys a cake. We helped frost it, so you may want to avoid the frosting.”

 

It was definitely weird, the new sense of camaraderie amongst the different groups, but it was certainly so much better. Before, Tyler’s friends had been limited to his team, but now he was talking to people with different interests, different personalities, different specialities. It was really… cool.

 

And Josh.

 

Josh approached him from behind, poking him in the side. Tyler practically jumped around to look at him, and Josh laughed. “Didn’t know you were ticklish.”

 

“I’m not,” Tyler said, but it was far too late.

 

“Ready for today?” Josh asked.

 

It was a loaded question. Tyler liked to think he was ready, but then again, there was never a set amount of preparation for something like this. There could always be an unexpected roadblock or something. So he just said, “Maybe.”

 

Josh raised his eyebrows. “So cryptic, Ty. We’re gonna kick butt.” Josh seemed so confident about it that it made Tyler believe, too, and all the more as Josh pulled him in for a hug for the first time.

 

.

 

The big game. It started out well enough, with Tyler scoring 15 out of the team’s first 35 points and taking an early 35-28 lead, but of course West Academy wasn’t going to go down so easily. They came back to tie it at 40 at the half, and Tyler wasn’t going to lie, he was a little terrified.

 

“It’s fucking fine,” Coach Iero said at halftime, and then covered his mouth in embarrassment. “Don’t tell your dad I said that. But seriously, Tyler, you’re doing great. They’re gonna get tired, okay? Just don’t let them get in your head. You’re better than them.”

 

His dad gave him a lecture about keeping the team together and defense, have you heard of it, stop letting them score so much in the paint, don’t foul except when necessary, but once it was over he clapped Tyler on the back. “And by the way, I’m proud of you, son,” he said. “No matter what.”

 

He knew about Tyler auditioning, then. Somehow Tyler didn’t feel as ashamed as he’d expected to. Or maybe it was something else altogether. Either way, Tyler wasn’t too concerned. He grinned and nodded, resolving to do his best.

 

After halftime, just as they’d planned, the lights and scoreboard started screwing up pretty majorly. The whole gymnasium started murmuring and chatting, but as soon as the announcer came on to announce an evacuation, Tyler pulled on his jacket and sweatpants and darted out of the gym. Everyone looked a little confused besides Gabe, Pete, and Patrick, who gave him dumb goofy smiles and thumbs ups along with mouthed good lucks.

 

He nearly ran into Josh outside of the doors to the auditorium. Josh was beaming practically from ear to ear. “We’re going to do this,” Josh said joyfully. “Though you should remember that William vetoed the rap.”

 

Tyler rolled his eyes. “Fine. But next musical, it’s happening. William promised me.”

 

Josh laughed and they pushed open the doors to the auditorium, almost as if they were in perfect sync. They made their way to the stage together, walking so close together that their shoulders were almost brushing. And for once, Tyler wasn’t really concerned about what people would say about him.

 

Once they got to the stage though, Tyler was hyperaware of all the eyes on him. People who had showed up to see the basketball star and the random new guy try to take over Queen Brendon Urie and his ever-faithful servant Ryan Ross, his friends, Brendon’s stoner club, Brendon and Ryan. He felt his heart quicken a little bit. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t all that good, after all.

 

Josh reached out as the music started, grabbing Tyler’s hand. Quickly squeezing it, he said, “You’ll be great. Don’t overthink it.”

 

 _Don’t let them get in your head_ , Tyler finished from Coach Iero’s little speech. He nodded and opened his mouth. “It’s a drunken midnight on the streets, brightly dusted with a neon light…”

 

.

 

Mr. Way believed in a democratic version of giving parts to people in plays, so he let the Drama Club vote on who should be the leads in _Fast Times at Barrington High._ Almost unanimously, Tyler and Josh were chosen to be the leads in the play. Tyler wasn’t convinced it was because they were better, but more because people were sick of Brendon and Ryan playing the leads in every single play and Brendon turning into a tyrant, as one guy who Tyler thought may have been named Dillon or Dallon put it. Josh theorized that Ryan might have even voted for them. But, still, it was an honor.

 

“You may have won this round, and you may have deserved it,” Brendon said, giving them a cocky smirk. “But it’s not over. Believe me, I’ll be back.”

 

Ryan, who was standing beside him, rolled his eyes. “You two were great. Congratulations.”

 

“Ryan!” Brendon hissed.

 

Ryan just looked at Brendon with big, innocent eyes, and Brendon seemed to melt a little bit. It was notable, Tyler thought, that even the great Brendon Urie had a weakness.

 

“I gotta get to the game,” Tyler said, nodding, “but thanks.” He darted out of the auditorium, bidding Josh a quick goodbye. Josh gave him a brilliant smile and yelled “Good luck, Ty!” down the hall, which was really great, and he repeated the sentiment.

 

By the time he got back to the gym, he was pretty winded. He collapsed into the chair in between Gabe and Pete.

 

Gabe leaned over. “Just in time. We’re just about to start. Guessing you got the part?”

 

Tyler nodded, trying not to grin least he be given crap for it, and Gabe and Pete both whooped. “Hell yeah!” Pete yelled, earning a glare from Coach Iero.

 

The game started back up about a minute afterwards, and Tyler tried with all of his might to keep his mind on the game. It wasn’t his best game, really, but it certainly wasn’t his worst either. He and the rest of his teammates made enough points to keep the game about tied. And then, there were ten seconds left, his team had the ball, and they were down by one point.

 

This was it. Tyler inhaled. Don’t let the pressure get to you, he told himself. You can do this. You’ve been doing this for years. You’ve got the support of your entire team. You can _do_ this.

 

Pete brought the ball down and passed to Gabe. Tyler positioned himself near the goal and Gabe looked at him, gave a slight tilt of his head to see if Tyler was okay with shooting. Tyler gave a slight nod back and then, suddenly, the ball was in his arms. _You can do this_ , Tyler said to himself. He could. Just like he rehearsed, he shot the ball into the air, and it flew in a perfect arc into the net.

 

He did it.

 

The next few seconds were a blur - his entire team jumped on him, and having a bunch of sweaty boys all over you was never a really pleasant experience. But then Pete was helping him to his feet and his dad was hugging him and telling him how proud he was and _wow, they really had won it._ He was beaming from ear to ear.

 

Once the crowd kind of dispersed, Josh came up and hugged him. “Congrats,” he said, almost shyly. “I knew you could do it.”

 

“You?” Tyler asked.

 

“We won too,” Josh said, smirking. “Three victories in one day. We’ll be the most accomplished couple at East Academy.”

 

“Hm,” Tyler said. “I can deal with that.” And then Josh was leaning in, and he was putting his hands on Josh, and -

 

“You’re so talented, Tyler!” came Brendon Urie’s voice. Tyler had never wanted to strangle anyone more. “Basketball and singing. One day I hope to be like you.”

 

Tyler had a million ways to respond to Brendon’s remark, but none were all that nice. It had been a good day, a fantastic day. Tyler really didn’t want to make it worse by feuding with Brendon Urie in the middle of the gymnasium after an iconic win. So he just said, “Thanks, Bren, we appreciate the support. Can’t wait to work with you during the play.”

 

Speaking of working with during the play, Tyler had a job he’d promised to do. He gave Josh a quick kiss on the cheek - they’d get a real one later, surely, when there weren’t so many people around - and darted over to where Gabe was chatting with some random ‘fan’. “Gabe,” he interrupted, aware he was being rude, but he didn’t really have the time to care. “Can I talk to you?”

 

“Sure,” Gabe said, alarm on his face. Tyler tried to convey to him that he shouldn’t worry through his expression, but Tyler just wasn’t great at getting his face to work the way it should, so it was probably more of a grimace or something. Whoops. “What’s going on?” Gabe asked once they were alone.

 

“You see that guy over there?” Tyler asked, motioning to where William was sitting by himself, playing something on his leg like a piano.

 

“Yeah,” Gabe said, his eyes brightening a little bit. So far, so good.

 

“Do you think he’s cute?” Tyler questioned, a little desperately.

 

“Him?” Gabe asked, and for a second Tyler thought all hope was lost. Gabe continued, though, with a, “Oh, hell yes. His face is gorgeous, those legs go on for miles, and do you know what I could do with that -“

 

“Way too much information,” Tyler said, cutting him off. “He likes you. Go talk to him. You’d be perfect.”

 

“The hell?” Gabe said, but he was grinning. “Well, I’m not complaining. Thanks, man.”

 

He watched as Gabe practically sprinted at William. William looked a little confused at first, but as Gabe kept blabbing, probably about his amazing taste in music, his favorite NBA team, or his guitar skills, William seemed to loosen up, even laughing a little bit and scooting closer to Gabe. Cupid really ought to thank Tyler for doing his job.

 

Josh rejoined him, giving him a quizzical look. “William and Gabe? Wouldn’t have seen that coming.”

 

“Stranger things have happened,” Tyler said with a shrug.

 

Josh laughed. “Wanna get out of here? We could do a celebratory dinner.”

 

“With you?” Tyler asked, turning up his nose, but then he said, “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

**Author's Note:**

> So my siblings and I were watching High School Musical and this popped into my head. I hope you all enjoyed! It's mostly not serious, but more serious than I thought it'd be, if that makes any sense.   
> Just in case any of you aren't aware, Gabe is Gabe Saporta from Cobra Starship/Midtown and William is William Beckett from The Academy Is... Please give those bands a listen if you haven't already!  
> If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment! I might do some additional little stories like about Frank and Gerard's relationship in this universe, maybe a little Gabe and William short story or a Pete and Mikey thing. Who knows. Give me suggestions.  
> Again, leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!


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